


Under Ground

by ThaFost



Category: Life on Mars & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-30
Updated: 2014-09-30
Packaged: 2018-02-19 08:57:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2382515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThaFost/pseuds/ThaFost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In Life on Mars, it starts with a cop getting hit by a car and waking up in 1973... Rick Grimes isn't quite so lucky.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Under Ground

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea where I was going with this, but Rick Grimes and Shane are both law enforcement types, so they would fit into the series/world that is Life on Mars and Ashes to Ashes post death. Unbeta'd, and probably as complete as it will ever be. I just felt like staring at it in my drafts was too much.

The pain in his forearm is blinding, and Rick knows that this is it. The blood seeps into his sleeve as he stabs the ugly face, managing to get his arm back in one piece, but damaged enough that it condemns him. So much for a simple supply run, but since they’d escaped Terminus, nothing had been simple really. He ties his belt around the arm, but he’s pretty sure they aren’t going to be able to amputate safely out here. 

He makes it back to Daryl after a few minutes, no other walkers in general area. Daryl’s eyes are wide, and Rick knows it’s dawned on the other man. “How long?” Rick shakes his head.

“Pretty sure it’s too late for that now,” Rick mutters. “Do you think we have enough time, to get back to my kids?” Daryl’s eyes are cloudy as he nods. They pick up their loot and haul it to their waiting vehicle. Rick sits in the back on the passenger’s side, just in case the fever takes him faster than others. It’s far enough away that if he tries, he can’t reach out and touch the other man. Daryl slips in a CD he’d scavenged and turns it up in the car, and Rick doesn’t say anything when he can hear Daryl crying over the music. It’s strange to Rick, that such a stoic man is brought to tears, when he, the dying man, is calmly accepting his fate. 

When they get back to where they’re holed up for now, Daryl cuts the engine, killing the Labyrinth soundtrack midsong. Michonne comes out to meet them, but as Rick gets out, she eyes his arm, and looks to Daryl. “Can you go get Carl for me? ‘n Judy too.” Rick says. She nods, taking some of the bags from the car. Daryl comes towards Rick, and it surprises him when the man wraps both arms around him. “Okay.”

“I would’ve followed you anywhere.” Daryl’s voice is soft in Rick’s ear, tempting him with images of a future that cannot be.

“Take care of my kids then?” Daryl laughs, but he pulls away finally, letting his hands stay firmly on Rick’s shoulders.

“Course man, o’course I will.” He lets go, and steps away quickly kicking at the dirt with one of his feet. Rick’s not sure why, until Carl storms out, toddler sister in tow. Carl stops a few feet away.

“No.” Carl shakes his head, long hair flying up from his eyes. “Tell me I’ve got this wrong. Tell me.”

“I’m sorry Carl. I needed to see you, one last time.” Judy stretches out her arms towards Rick, but he just fusses with her hair. “You too little darlin’, needed to see you. Wanted to see you both grow up, but...” There’s a loud thump, and Rick turns to see that Daryl’s punched the car. “It’s not your fault.”

“Like hell it ain’t. We’re supposed to stick together on two man runs.” Daryl’s hand is still clenched in a fist. “I was supposed to have your back.”

“And we both thought that area was clear. Now Carl, listen to what Daryl and the others say. You’re going to be a man someday, but you’ve still got some years to go. Tell Judith I loved her... when she’s older. Don’t tell her ‘bout Shane.” Carl nods at the instructions, hair wild.

“Don’t make me.” Carl says, voice cracking. “I thought I could do it. After the prison fell, but I couldn’t. I already put down mom.”

“I got it.” Daryl says. “We gotta go out a little ways, shot’ll wake some walkers up.” Rick nods, it’s kinder to use a gun, but it brings logistical issues.

 

Forty miles out, Daryl pulls over. It’s far enough out that it’ll divert the walkers away from the settlement. It’s a bit of a drive just to die, but Rick doesn’t stop him. The strange soundtrack is still playing by the time they pull over, and Daryl doesn’t cut the radio off when they stop.

“Where do you want me?” Daryl points outside, and Rick notices a house with a tree out front. Rick unbuckles, and he climbs out of the car. Daryl follows him, leaving the door open, letting the lyrics follow behind him.

“It's only forever  
Not long at all”

Rick’s not sure of the connotations of the song, but he’s sure it fits somewhere in this situation. He waits, sitting under the tree, and then he extends his own gun to Daryl. “Here. Not going to do me much good now.” Daryl takes it with slow hands, feeling the weight of it, before pressing the barrel to Rick’s forehead. “Go on.”

There’s the noise of the gunshot, and then there’s silence.

 

And then, for whatever reason, Rick hears his alarm clock ringing. Opening his eyes, he finds himself in a shabby apartment, and he finds the alarm, and silences it. It’s strange looking, not because he doesn’t know where he is, but because it looks straight out of the eighties. Flipping on his light switch, it illuminates the rest of the room. From what he can see, it’s a very eerie replica of the nineteen eighties. There’s a deputy’s badge and a wallet on a dresser, and he flips open to his ID.

Rick Grimes born 1948, issued in Gilmer County, Georgia. Expiration date of December 12, 1990. His stomach growled, and he wasn’t sure if it was from hunger or discomfort. 

The living room wasn’t much better, with shag carpet holding over from the seventies, and terrible linoleum in the kitchen area. The television is tiny and yet so large compared to what Rick remembers. There’s a telephone on the wall by the kitchen. As Rick stares at it, it rings, he moves to answer it, but stops before he does. The last time he answered a phone, it was to talk to his dead wife. For a second he considers ignoring it, but finally picks it up.

“This is Rick.”

“Rick, Shane. Goin’ to come get you for your first day in ‘bout twenty five. That work for ya?” Rick really needed to stop answering phone calls from dead people.

“Sure Shane.” It’s strange to think, that here they were again. Friends, even after being shot in the face. Rick suddenly realizes, that if he’s a deputy here, then his shower works.

He gets cleaned up and manages some corn flakes before Shane pounds on his door. Rick finds his keys on the counter, and they head out to the station. If Rick feels anything when he sees the band of gold on Shane’s finger, he ignores it, pushing it back down.

 

It’s mid afternoon before they get called out for a disturbance. It’s a house in the middle of nowhere, and Shane sighs when he reads the address. “Frickin’ Dixons.” Rick feels a twinge in his heart, thinking of Daryl, knowing that it wasn’t him... or at least Rick was pretty sure it wasn’t him. Of course, Rick did just die and find out he had to make it through the eighties again, so he’s not sure of anything really.

It takes the better part of forty minutes to get to the cabin almost, mostly because the backroads aren't well maintained. There’s a man on the porch, yelling at whoever’s inside the house. He’s an angry looking man, and Rick really doesn’t want to have to charge in there without a nonlethal weapon, but he wasn’t going to be getting a choice in the matter.

“Shooooot, cops, who called you out here?” The man asks, finally noticing them as they approach. “I can tell you, just a misunderstanding. Went to get the paper, and the boys locked me out. Just need them to let me in.” The man looks unconvincing in his boxer shorts, bruise forming on his forearm. “Merle, you godforsaken wretch, you quit foolin’ and open this door before I send the cops in.” Rick inhales sharply. After a pause, the man tries again, with a softer voice. “Daryl, Daddy needs you to unlock this door...” He knows at that moment, the man in front of him is trouble.


End file.
